I have unfortunately been severely falling down on my responsibilities to the internet Gods. But the time has come for them to be appeased.

Hey speaking of the Gods, I am becoming more and more confident that the world will end in December of 2012. Up until very very recently, I was convinced that the Mayan calendar was simply one that HAD to end at some point, and the date just happened to coincide with one that is within all of our lifetimes. I had never placed much stock in December 21, 2012 being a possible endpoint of mankind. I just didn’t.

However, over the recent months, certain events in science, entertainment, and general hilarity have caused me to rethink my stance.

So now…as the Gods bicker over an intense game of “Chutes and Ladders,” one that will decide the fate of our world, it is I who will sift through the rubble…and bring to you…

THE SIGNS OF THE (LOOMING?) APOCALYPSE!

Sign number 1: The Icelandic Volcano

"One does not simply walk into Iceland."

Unless you have no television, internet, or cell phone, you are undoubtedly aware of the massive eruption of the volcano Kyejalvickekjlajkjaskjdfkjajelak in Iceland, and the massive inconvenience it created for travelers going to and from Europe. What you are probably not aware of, is that my fiance and I are scheduled to travel to London in early June for our honeymoon. Why this volcano decided to single-handedly halt all air travel over the one region on the planet where I hope to go (via AIRPLANE) in the coming months is anybody’s guess.

Sign Number 2: The Midwest Fireball

This one may have actually slipped by you. Apparently a giant fireball skated its celestial ass across the midwest skies a couple of weeks ago, causing…uh…nothing I guess. But look, even if it probably was a civil war era comet, I still think the gods were trying to tell us something.

Sign Number 3: The KFC Double Down

Webster’s Dictionary defines the word sandwich as “ two or more slices of bread or a split roll having a filling in between.”

The Double Down sandwich contains no bread, which, by definition, negates it from being considered a sandwich.

"Now, THIS is a chicken sandwich." Nay, pilgrim. That is a fistful of colon cancer, with two slices of morbid obesity, and a spicy sauce made of labored breathing.

Oh, Colonel…I had misjudged you! Here you have been the last couple months trying to push your “Kentucky Grilled Chicken” on consumers, and I was SURE that you had gone soft… that you had lost the drive that got you to into the fried chicken racket in the first place. Boy howdy, was I mistaken.

For those of you unaware of this deep fried monstrosity, the Double Down contains two boneless original recipe chicken breasts with two pieces of bacon, two slices of cheese and a sauce of unknown origin placed between them. Too much? Perhaps your taste buds would prefer the grilled version…

A grilled version of the sandwich? Seriously? That will undoubtedly be for the delusional 300+ pound man or woman who want to fully gorge themselves without all of that pesky “bread.” Actually, KFC should just jump to calling their other bread on the menu “meat interruption” or “that spongy, non-meat shit.” Be on the lookout for the new original recipe milkshakes. Two original recipe chicken pieces, blended with a cool glass of whole milk with a rich, cool gravy glaze. Oh, my taste buds! How they sing!

My biggest gripe however, is the marketing campaign. In their most frequently running advertisement, they have a black gentleman saying the phrases “Gimmie more chicken,” “Hellooooo, Chicken,” and (very lustfully) “…and two pieces of chicken.” The only times they mention the GD chicken, they have the black guy say it. Don’t believe me? Point your lookin’ balls below…

Read into it what you will, but one must only glance at Colonel Sanders to know that he probably had slaves.